His Name Is
by museicality
Summary: Written for SMACKDOWN 2011, Team Underpants. A Series written from the lyrics from "His Name Is Lancelot" from Monty Python's Spamalot in conjunction with Sidonie, who wrote a mirror fic for Jon/Zahir.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Move Aside Your Scabbard

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 125

Pairing: Team Underpants

Round/Fight: 1/A

Summary: "Move Aside Your Scabbard": Dom brings these things upon himself. (Part of "His Name is Lancelot" twin-fic series with Sidonie; lyric prompts from Spamalot.)

They crouched behind the garden wall, waiting.

Well, Dom crouched. Evin tripped, flailed madly, and fell, knocking the wind out of himself.

"Shut up! You're going to ruin our hiding spot, and it took us forever to find it!"

"Well, I'm [i]sorry[/i] it's a little dark out."

"Really, now? It doesn't normally get like that after sundown, not at all…"

"Oh, stuff it. Help me up."

"Only if it shuts you up, and I mean it."

Dom reached out a hand, but before he could brace himself, Evin grabbed his arm and pulled.

He succeeded in knocking the air out of himself a second time.

"Ugh."

"You bring these things upon yourself."

"Dom?"

"What?"

"Move your scabbard."

"…wha-?"

"It keeps poking me in the thigh."


	2. Underneath Your Tabard

Title: Underneath Your Tabard

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 180

Pairing: Team Underpants

Round/Fight: 1/A

Summary: "Underneath your tabard": What is Evin wearing?. (Part of "His Name is Lancelot" twin-fic series with Sidonie; lyric prompts from Spamalot.)

It wasn't surprising to walk into Evin's room and find him preening in front of the mirror.

This time, though, the sight he beheld when he opened the door had him stopped dead in his tracks.

Evin, seeing him in the mirror, turned.

"So, what do you think?"

It was so wrong for him to be so inordinately proud of himself.

"…what are you wearing?" Dom couldn't stop the mixed tones of disbelief and derision out of his voice.

Evin drew himself up and attempted to look dignified. "It's called a Tabard."

There was no other way to ask the question.

[i]"Why?"[/i]

Evin shrugged, nonchalantly turning back to the mirror. "I felt like it. Did you know, these used to be common garments for outdoor excursions across Tortall and the Eastern Lands?"

"Mmmm…" Dom mumbled, looking around (because honestly, Evin, those colors clashed, [i]horribly[/i] and it being a family heirloom—what kind of family are you FROM, anyway?—does NOT excuse this) and saw a pile of clothes in the corner.

"…you're not wearing anything under it, are you?"

"…Nope."


	3. A Butterfly

Title: A Butterfly

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 187

Pairing: Team Underpants

Round/Fight: 1/A

Summary: "There is waiting to escape a butterfly": Dom doesn't want to be liberated… (Part of "His Name is Lancelot" twin-fic series with Sidonie; lyric prompts from Spamalot.)

Evin turned away from the mirror.

"Hey, Dom, don't leave."

Dom raised an eyebrow. "You, my dear sir, are asking me to stay with you, in your room with the door closed, whilst you prance around wearing nothing but a tabard."

"Yeah, and?"

"…You're so _weird_."

Evin ignored this last, rooting around in the trunk at the end of his bed. "Hold on a second…"

Dom hovered, indecisive. He really wasn't sure he wanted to, especially with Evin in this kind of mood.

"…ta-dah!" Evin flourished a second tabard, this one in violent shades of orange and green with purple trim.

"Oh, hell no. Listen, I know that the colors are like, your family's colors or something, but this is atrocious, Evin…"

"Come on—it's liberating!"

"…But maybe I don't _want_ to be liberated—what?"

Dom felt a jerk and his pants puddled around his ankles, and Evin grinned. "See, you're already halfway there."

Dom, albeit reluctantly, ended up looking in the mirror. "…It's not as abhorrent as I thought…"

Evin grinned at him and slung an arm over his shoulder. "Oh, you know you like it."


	4. He Likes to Dance A Lot

Title: He Likes To Dance A Lot

Rating: G

Word Count: 267

Pairing: Team Underpants

Round/Fight: 1A

Summary: "He likes to dance a lot": It's all in the definition of the thing. (Part of "His Name is Lancelot" twin-fic series with Sidonie; lyric prompts from Spamalot.)

"Come on!"

"-No."

"You'll like it…"

"- Again, no."

"You can't say that you don't like it, because you've never tried!"

"I've never tried eating a Sunblaze pepper or riding underneath my horse either, but I know I don't like those things," Dom said petulantly.

"Um, sunblaze peppers are only bad until the third bite, when you don't have any taste buds anymore, and there is a right and a wrong way to ride under your mount; it's a K'miri riding trick, and it takes practice." Evin shook his finger at Dom before he realized he had been neatly sidetracked. "_Anyway_, it's beside the point. Dancing will not cause you bodily harm, and I'm sorry for putting the peppers in your dinner the other night. It's not like you ate them, anyway."

Dom folded his arms. "Your definition of dancing and my definition are different. I can dance; just ask any of the ladies in the Court."

"Like I'd want their opinions." Evin folded his arms as well. "They're all star-struck by the brilliant, sapphire colored eyes of a _certain blue eyed sergeant_." He knew Dom hated the way that the Court ladies referred to him, so Evin took great pains to rub Dom's face in it during their friendly spats.

"Watch; first you go like this, then you move like this…" Evin demonstrated, watching to make sure that Dom's eyes were paying attention.

He twirled on the spot, and ended up face-to-face, body-to-body with Dom. "And then, you end like this."

Dom's mouth quirked in bemusement. "Alright, so perhaps it isn't going to kill me…"


	5. You Know You Do

Title: You Know You Do

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 472

Pairing: Team Underpants

Round/Fight: 1/A

Summary: "You know you do—I do?": Someday, they will learn. (Part of "His Name is Lancelot" twin-fic series with Sidonie; lyric prompts from Spamalot.)

AN: I just want to take this opportunity to thank my readers; as you may have noticed, the majority of my work on ffnet is very, very short, or consisting of very short chapters. This is caused by the fact that these fic were written for Goldenlake's SMACKDOWN challenge last year, and time was of the essence! In the future, I'll be uploading fic that is longer, so thank you for reading all these short drabbles and keep an eye out :) ~Muse

x.

Someday, they would learn.

"You want to, you know you do," Evin told Dom as he ran and jumped, grabbing the rope hanging out over the river and swinging out and up before landing with a giant splash. Catcalls and wolf whistles erupted from the Riders in the water, who were splashing and making a general ruckus.

Dom reached out and caught the rope on the backswing, taking the dare.

Somewhere halfway through the air, he heard Flyndan's "—what is going on her—"

SPLASH.

"You want to, you know you do," Dom whispered to Evin as they snuck into the Mess tent that the Riders and Own were sharing while on Progress. Evin looked at the package in Dom's hand, then at Dom, and then at the meal. "What is it?"

Dom grinned slyly. "Have you ever wondered what it would be like if a hundred soldiers ended up with a purple tongue?"

Evin tilted his head to the side as he imagined this. "No, but that doesn't mean I'm not now…"

They exchanged a high five and Dom broke the seal on the package. "It goes without saying, but… stay away from the soup tonight."

Being lectured by Raoul on "proper dignity" wasn't hard to sit through, since Dom knew it was just impressed upon him by the king. It was hard to maintain said "proper dignity" when, every time he opened his mouth, Dom and Evin got a glimpse of Raoul's purple tongue.

Not even Buri's unimpressed glare (she wouldn't open her mouth to tell them off) kept them from shaking with utter mirth.

"You want to, you know you do," Miri told them, hand on her hips. Somewhere, she had picked up their phrase, and Dom had the distinct feeling it was about to backfire.

"Well, yes, there's no denying that," Evin admitted.

Dom scratched his head. "I don't get why I'm in on this."

Miri rolled her eyes and ticked off on her fingers. "Pranking the new trainees is tradition. You are the best pranksters. _You_ started this tradition. You get to help me booby trap the stables, tonight, right now."

"So, we have permission to prank them." Evin looked at Dom. "Yes!"

Well, kinda. Buri's halfhearted lecture about respecting the trainees as future comrades didn't sound _exactly_ like permission…but almost. Plus, she really liked the new dance moves the new trainees discovered when they hit the yard…and all the marbles they had covered it with.

"You want to…" Evin whispered, "You know you do."

"I do?" Dom couldn't help but ask, and was rewarded with the ghosting of fingertips up his back. Evin looked him over, and mused, "Do you think we'll get hauled off and rebuked for this one, too?"

Dom propped himself up on his elbows.

"Why? Is someone going to find out?"


End file.
